


Slow Dancing In A Burning Room

by TheBubbliciousGenius



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-07-25 09:34:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7527553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBubbliciousGenius/pseuds/TheBubbliciousGenius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feeling Belittled by his Sister, Jacob decides to take up the Invitation for some Adventure with the Notorious Maxwell Roth. The Master Assassin is quickly Enthralled by the Chaos and Free Will. But Jacob is starting to find that Freedom comes at a cost and as he stands at the toll to pay he must answer if he is willing to make such a purchase. Will he allow Innocents to perish because of him? Is he willing to set the world ablaze? Or will he turn and cast aside the man that is offering him the torch?</p><p>(Mature for Later Chapters)<br/>(Currently On Hold)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: The Letter

**Author's Note:**

> After 5 years I have finally returned to the stage! What a befitting place to start, no? And yet the Summary still does not give my story Justice. I Promise it is better than it sounds.
> 
> I would also like to thank and dedicate this Fanfic to LittleLeafLost for Inspiring me to get back into Writing. Her works are Magnificent and I can only hope to have this Fanfiction be as good as her very first.
> 
> Well what are you waiting for? Take the leap!

It was a gray day. Not terribly unusual for London. But these clouds had also had quite a bit to drink before arriving and decided to relieve themselves all over the already miserable city. The sound of rain clattering outside echoed through the station, only briefly overpowered by that of Bertha as she whistled and hissed, brakes offering a hello as they screeched to a stop at the Whitechapel Station.

The thud of boots came closer to the great Train before Jacob Frye hopped aboard and brushed himself off as he stood on the platform. He had, had a little run in with some Blighters on his way there and now it seemed that mud was going to stain his cloak. Brilliant.

Taking off his top hat and giving it a shake to expel any droplets he turned to enter the railcar nearest him. As the Male Master Assassin made his way to collect the income of the day he noticed something out of the ordinary. What was that? He pivoted and plucked an envelope from the board Evie, Henry and himself had made of all their targets and notes.

“A letter? For me?” the man couldn’t help but smirk. A secret admirer perhaps?

He snorted a laugh at himself for the thought. Using his Kukri as a letter opener he tossed the covering aside and unfolded the parchment. What he read was definitely not what he was expecting. Although despite his earlier dismissal, it did seem to be an admiration letter…and it even offered dinner. On cue his stomach growled and he hummed, musing over the thought of having dinner with such a dangerous man. The thought was actually rather thrilling despite the small piece of Evie that plagued his mind and told him to be cautious.

He grumbled at that little nagging voice “Oh Sod off, Evie…” he looked back down at the letter and turned it in his hand, giving a sly smile “It’s about time I had a little fun.”

X

“Maxwell Roth? The leader of the Blighters? Jacob he’s a Templar. He’s dangerous. You’re not going.” Evie told him after he brought it up that night. He hated it when she condescended him like that.

Jacob snorted and rolled his eyes “Course not. That would be foolish” he muttered sarcastically.

Evie narrowed her eyes at him “Jacob…” she sounded like a mother about to scold her child.

“You worry too much, dear sister.” he smiled disarmingly. But inwardly he was already planning to do the exact opposite of what she told him not to do. Once Evie went to sleep…he would be off that Train and into the Strand.

Evie wasn’t completely convinced but left it at that. Deciding her brother wouldn’t be that stupid and reckless…

Later that evening however he was about to prove her wrong. As he kept to his unspoken words he peered into Evie’s railcar to find her asleep in a chair with a book on her lap. Smirking he closed the door and waited on the platform for the Strand to come into view before descending into what he was hoping to be a very interesting night with a very dangerous man.


	2. Dinner To Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me for the long silence. Life is dreadfully busy with work and the likes. But here is a little Chapter to keep you going. I'm hoping to get another Chapter out before Valentines Day though, so stay Vigilant!

Dismounting from the carriage he had Hijacked, Jacob rounded to the horse who had graciously taken him where he needed to go. He rummaged around in his pocket, fairly sure he had a sugar cube or two. He had swiped them from the bowl for his and Evie’s tea that afternoon. Finding one he offered it to the horse with a charming smile and gave it a pat on the neck.

“Who’s a good horse?” he leaned near and petted its head with a small laugh “you are.”

With that he moved away from the carriage and patted himself down. Still a few brown spots of mud here and there, but he eventually shrugged. It just couldn’t be helped. He looked up at the dreary rain-filled sky briefly before looking forward at the large building before him. So…this was the Alhambra Music Hall? Well…the back part of it at least.

He started towards where he had been told the back entrance was and found the large door that had been described to him. Glancing either side of him he wondered to himself. Was he just…supposed to knock? Shrugging the thought off, he did just that.

It was a long few minutes before he knocked again. Surely someone knew he was coming. He pulled the letter from his pocket and reread:

_Jacob Frye,_

_Allow me to introduce myself. I am Maxwell Roth, leader of the Blighters. I have heard a great deal about you and your works around London as of late. You are quite the leader yourself from what I hear. But such whispers do not do you justice._

_So I think it is about time you and I were acquainted. I would like to cordially invite you to dinner at the Alhambra Music Hall. The front doors will be closed but in the back there will be a large Mahogany door._

_I will be awaiting your arrival later tonight._

_MAXWELL ROTH_

Hmm…there was something else written there, he must have missed it when he read it the first time.

_Post Scriptum: Lewis will let you in. Just give a knock_

Wait…Lewis? Who was Lewis?

His question was soon answered as the door swung open. A man in a bowler cap and green plaid jacket met him, face expressionless and solemn. Jacob smiled at the man and offered his Invitation to him.

“I’m here to see Mr. Roth”

The man he imagined was Lewis briefly glanced at the invitation, knowing his boss’ handwriting anywhere. He quickly looked back up at the young man before him “Weapons?”

“No, thank you…” the Assassin smirked mischievously “I’ve got my own”

Lewis wasn’t impressed, or so it seemed, his face still seemed to remain the same “You should be on the stage, sir…this way” he gestured as he turned and held the door open for the other to enter.

The door shut behind him, leaving Jacob to his own devices. The backstage seemed in disarray, as though they were getting ready to put on a show soon. He looked around, finding a sitting table to his left, a rug and table to his right along with a door. He didn’t know where it went to though.

There were some actors talking at the end of the steps he stealthily proceeded down. There were crates, scaled decorative trees, knocked over back drops, costumes hanging in a row just out of sight from the audience. And there…there in the middle of the stage was a long dining table with fruits, cheeses, assorted meats and his favorite…something in a bottle.

He was going to sneak over and steal one of the meats when suddenly a man pouring a bottle into two cups stopped and turned around. Jacob didn’t falter in his steps and acted casually as he averted snagging something to eat and continued towards the other.

“Ah! Our honored guest has arrived!” the man still hadn’t put down the bottle and Jacob was starting to think that this man was Maxwell Roth “Come, sit”

Jacob had slowed his steps now but after being told to sit he wasn’t about to refuse. He plopped down in the seat…the only seat at the table. That was strange. There wasn’t even a seat for Roth. The man started going on about that he had, had an eye on him for some time. Enjoyed his heroics against the great Crawford Starrick. But really Jacob was just glad to have a drink in his hand as he took a big swig of it.

“I’ve been picking off your soldiers one by one…doesn’t that make you angry?” he sure expected it to. And yet the man was so calm and collected if not excited that what should be his enemy was sitting at his dinner table.

Surprise was the spice of life was his answer. Jacob blinked at the reply and listened more to this Maxwell Roth, unable to keep from looking over the others face. He had a rather nasty gash on the right side of his face, blue eyes, fading black hair and a waxed mustache.

Roth got closer, suggesting that the two of them joined together to bring down Starrick. Jacob caught a whiff of expensive soap and cigars from the other. It would explain the way his voice sounded like he was gargling glass. The young assassin laughed and leaned back in his chair.

“I’m not so sure about that…” after all…Roth was a Templar…but then again…why would he even suggest such a thing? Surely, he would get in a great deal of trouble just mentioning it.

“My friend,” those words caught Jacobs attention away from taking another drink and back to his host. Roth told him that if he failed to help him cause Starrick some pain that he could kill Roth himself. What an odd thing to say…

Jacob set his drink down “What do you get out of all this?”

“The chance to have a little fun with the bravest man in London!”

He thought him brave, did he? Jacob couldn’t help but smile and look down. It was nice to know someone thought he was brave…Evie sure didn’t…she always thought he was reckless and foolish. Anything but Brave. And you know what? Why not?! It would be fun and far more effective than Evie’s way of bringing Starrick down.

“You have a deal.”

Maxwell Roth took a step back, not having expected such an answer but laughed, Jacob joining him as the Assassin offered a toast to their newfound friendship and clanked his bottle with the tin.  
  
Roth’s laugh was a heavy wheeze of delight as he took a drink before calling for Lewis to bring about the carriage. He looked to Jacob with a grin, snagging the large bottle he had used to fill their cups for the ride over “Shall we?”

Jacob was surprised to find Roth getting up into the driver’s seat and watched as the other man patted the seat beside him. The older man seemed to grin “Come on then, driver! To St. Pancras!” he winked “And don’t spare the ‘orses”

The Assassin cleared his throat and hopped up to take the reins, giving two snaps to tell the horses to move out. It was quiet for the moment as he drove through the cobbled streets and eventually coughed “I thought you and Starrick would be fighting for the same ends” he called over the wind “What happened?”

The luxurious man leaned back in his seat casually “Ah, you know. He required my services to train his gang leaders” he shrugged and flicked his wrist as though it were old news “But the man is dreadful”

Jacob couldn’t help but snort a laugh “You don’t say?”

Roth sat up fully, hands out in front of him as though he were visualizing something “Freedom, Jacob. Stealing that is FAR more than a sin” he put his hands to his chest “It denies us our humanity”

Well…he couldn’t argue with that. Honestly, he felt like his freedom was being impinged on by Evie all the time. Don’t do this. Don’t do that. He snorted. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say she and Starrick were one and the same. Making everything perfectly controlled to where it went their way.

“And St. Pancras will ease our suffering?” Jacob asked, raising a brow curiously.

The man beside him nodded “The station contains a large shipment of Explosives to be dispatched to Starrick and Co.”

Jacob rolled his eyes and smiled. So that was the mission? “And you intend to steal it” he assumed bluntly. It was like many missions he had done so far all over London. It was starting to get a little drab to be honest. He was hoping for a little more…flare. Something fun and exciting from the Blighter Leader. He guessed he pegged Maxwell Roth wrong in that regard.

“Wha-ha-hat?” Roth laughed heartily at the statement. He patted his chest in his laughter “No!”

“I Intend to blow it up!”


End file.
